Disguised
by luxe24
Summary: Hermione is trying to recover from her breakup with Ron; Draco is trying to piece himself together after the events of the past few years, and chance has them meeting, disguised, at a bar in Muggle London. Post-Hogwarts, Draco/Hermione.
1. Hermione

A/N: I figured with the amount of this stuff that I read, I ought to make some sort of contribution. I haven't read any of the books past the 5th, so forgive me if I make a few mistakes. Post-Hogwarts, DH. Three Chapters. I don't own any of the characters, obviously.

Summary: Hermione is trying to recover from her breakup with Ron; Draco is trying to piece himself together after the events of the past few years, and chance has them meeting, disguised, at a bar in muggle London.

* * *

No matter how she tried, she couldn't stop thinking about Ron. This had been the pattern for the past two weeks – Hermione would get up in the morning, get dressed, promise herself that this was the day she would begin to function normally. By noon she ended up back on her bed, obsessing over what went wrong, and cleaning her room over and over, packing everything that reminded her of Ron tightly away.

She was on summer break from her Healer training, and had too much time on her hands to think, to obsess, as was her nature, but try as she might, she couldn't figure out exactly what went wrong in her relationship.

Today, however, the pattern had broken. Hedwig had arrived at Hermione's window, tapping loud enough to completely distract Hermione with the prospect of a broken window. She roused herself out of bed with an annoyed grumble, which quickly turned into a wary stare when she saw Hedwig.

'This isn't from Ron, is it?' she asked the bird. There had been no letters from him since they had broken up, even though Hermione had written him two long letters against her better judgment, asking what had gone wrong, apologizing for every small fight that she had initiated. Hedwig glared at Hermione, appearing affronted at the very suggestion she would carry a letter from anyone other than Harry. Feeling slightly mollified by the haughty glare from the owl, Hermione opened the window and accepted the letter Hedwig carried with a sigh. She looked around her spotlessly clean room for a treat for the owl, but remembered that she had thrown them all away with the boxes of stuff of Ron's.

'Hedwig, I'm sorry, I don't have anything for you. I'll make sure to get some for next time you come,' Hermione said, feeling badly. With an indignant hoot, Hedwig flew out the still-open window.

Hermione looked down at the letter, half-hoping and half-dreading that it was actually from Ron. She was saved from having to figure out her real feelings when she unrolled it and saw Harry's writing at the top of the page.

The letter itself was long and apologetic for not having written earlier. Harry wrote all about his summer at Auror training, paragraph after paragraph of small little stories that Hermione knew he had been saving up just to make her smile, to distract her, and the knowledge of how he cared for her made her smile and laugh at the stories more than they really deserved.

Her smile disappeared at a little sentence thrown in near the end of the letter.

'I just thought you should know that Ron's started going out with Parvati. I didn't want you to find out from someone else. Keep your chin up. Love, Harry'

She crumpled up the letter and threw it across the room, then decided that wasn't nearly enough, so grabbed her wand and set it on fire, startling Crookshanks awake. While she had been sitting moping around in her room, Ron had been out getting busy with that little slut that had wanted him for as long as Hermione could remember. The knowledge infuriated Hermione, and she tore around her room in a rage.

'I can't believe this,' she spat to her cat. 'I've been sitting here for two weeks, thinking and THINKING about what I did wrong, what happened to that apparently perfect relationship I had with that red-haired GIT and he's already found an easy screw…'

Hermione's train of thought broke as she abruptly remembered a conversation she'd had with Harry a few months before she and Ron had broken up, right around the time that their relationship began to go downhill. Ron had just left for Romania to spend some time with Bill, and Hermione had stayed home so Ron could spend time with his brother. When she had asked Harry how Ron was enjoying Romania, he had looked at her quizzically and started to say something that sounded like 'Romania?' but had quickly recovered and said that he hadn't heard anything, but seemed very uncomfortable. When Hermione looked back on it, Parvati had been missing that week from Healer training. The realization that that Ron had probably been cheating on her brought her to her knees. Hermione hadn't been able to cry for the past two weeks, with her brain on overdrive, but the dam finally broke and she climbed into bed, buried her face in her pillow, and cried herself to sleep.

When Hermione woke up later that evening with decidedly red eyes and a puffy face, she was still spitting mad. She started to talk to Crookshanks again, who looked slightly terrified at the rage she was it.

'I refused to sleep with Ron for the first YEAR of our relationship, because I was SCARED that it would change something. When I had finally acquiesced, I THOUGHT that it had just brought us closer, that it was something we SHARED, that it was something SPECIAL. Apparently it wasn't been a big deal at ALL for him, he found it easy just to FORGET about our relationship and screw something else, and now start DATING her two weeks after we broke up."

Hermione's head was spinning with the lies that had held her relationship together for the last few months, how she had turned a blind eye to how little they saw of each other, dismissing it as the fact that he was finally applying himself to his Auror training, even feeling a bit proud that she had rubbed off on him when he spent Friday nights 'studying.' The fact that she had still slept with him sickened her, that he could sleep with her while having Parvati on the side. She had to do something. She had been sitting alone in her room with no one to talk to but her cat for too long, while Ron had been going out with his new girl.

Hermione made up her mind. She was going out tonight, to somewhere no one would know her, no one would judge her, where she could have some mindless fun. She grimly set to work removing all traces of her tears from her face, and putting on the muggle makeup that her mom had given her for her last birthday.

When she was done, all made up, dressed in a red shirt, black skirt and red flats, she inspected herself in the mirror. Her brown hair had been tamed into a sleek, straight ponytail, and her lips were highlighted with the bright red lipstick she liked so much.

She didn't like what she saw. She looked like she had dressed up for Ron, unconsciously made herself up into what he liked her to look like. With a frustrated groan, she kicked off the shoes and pulled the elastic out of her hair. What she really needed was a big change, something that would turn her into someone that wasn't Hermione Granger, just for the night.

Twenty minutes later, she barely recognized the girl in the mirror. She had long blonde ringlets cascading over her shoulders, eyes highlighted with carefully applied makeup, and a little green dress paired with black heels. It was exactly what she wanted to be – something that Ron didn't like. He had always hated her wearing green, 'too Slytherin' for his tastes. She performed several protection spells on herself to ensure that she couldn't be taken advantage of as a single girl going out alone, and then shrunk her wand so that it would fit in her purse. Hermione ran downstairs, explained to her parents that she was meeting friends down at the local bar, and went to go catch a bus.


	2. Draco

A/N: No action yet – I know the setup is slightly excessive, but I feel it's necessary. Something will happen in the next chapter I promise! I'm contemplating extending this beyond what I originally planned, we'll see how motivated I am. Thanks for the reviews/favourites/story alerts!

* * *

Draco paced around his hotel room in muggle London. He had left the Manor a month ago, because no matter what he did, no matter how many times his mother redecorated the house, it still pushed in upon him as the place where evil had taken hold of him. The walls felt like they had been pushing in on him, and he just had to leave. His mother would be looking for him, but bugger it.

He had been drifting aimlessly though life since the final battle, trying to forget what had happened, unable to commit to any training program that would lead to a job, spending money on frivolous magical items until he had filled up three rooms in his wing of the Manor with his junk. He was trying to forget, to start over.

His parents still expected him to marry some perfect pureblooded girl and raise a perfect family of Malfoy descendents, preferably sooner rather than later. So far he had resisted being set up with any of the girls his mother paraded in front of him. She meant well, but he just wasn't interested yet. He didn't have a purpose in life, let alone a job or even a house of his own. He could very easily have used some of the money his parents made available to him, but it somehow didn't feel right to him. He wanted to be independent, but he just hadn't found a way to do that yet. He had never felt like this before, but since Hogwarts he had had this annoying desire to prove himself.

Draco wanted to be somewhere people didn't know who he was, what he had done, and what was expected of him. He wanted a place to be himself, to be able to forget. His family and the Manor had been daily reminders of everything he had done, and he didn't want that. He needed to be away, and had settled on this hotel. It was a very nice hotel, no expenses spared, in the heart of the London nightlife scene. That wasn't what Draco had intended when he picked it, but it had turned into a good distraction. It was much easier to throw himself into the nightlife than to try and come to terms with what he had done, who he was.

Over the past month, Draco had attempted to blend into muggle society, a task that was harder than he thought. He had spent a few nights observing the crowds from his balcony, and had transfigured several of his robes into more appropriate muggle wear. His Dark Mark had disappeared with the vanquishing of the Dark Lord, which he was thankful for. Looking at that tangible reminder of what he had been would have been painful – much easier just to move on. He didn't want to take chances with anyone recognizing him, especially if his parents came looking for him, so he had taken to disguising himself with Appearance-Altering charms, changing his hair colour to a darker blonde, and giving himself a tan, against which his grey eyes popped out even more.

Apparently his new appearance was irresistible to muggle girls – especially drunk ones. The past month had been a blur of drinking muggle alcohol late into the night, picking up girls, sleeping in and then repeating the whole process. Mindless sex was something that he had never been able to enjoy in the wizarding world. All of the girls knew who he was and seemed to have these ridiculous expectations of him and his wealth and looking after him. After that insane situation of Millicent taking fertility potions and trying to get pregnant with his child to hopefully bind him to her for life, he had sworn off casual sex with witches. It just wasn't worth it. Muggles were much easier to control, to use as distractions until he could figure out some direction in his life. It would come to him, he was sure. In the meantime, he could use the distraction.

Draco picked up the contraption that muggles called a 'telephone' – which had taken him a day and a half to figure out how to work – and ordered food to his room. It was slightly more inconvenient than having house elves to do his every bidding, but the muggles who worked at this hotel performed basically the same functions, although the maid who came in to clean every morning had an annoying habit of chatting to him about her three children and unemployed husband. He had figured out how to tune her out, after using her to help him perfect his muggle conversation skills. It was a good thing he had learned the obliviate spell early on – some of his blunders had been quite memorable, but he was a quick learner.

His dinner arrived twenty minutes later (another issue with this whole room service over house elves thing), and he set in with gusto. He had spent the night before with a very attractive brunette, who had quite adventurous tastes. Draco most definitely hadn't minded, and they had a very pleasant night together. He had made sure she was gone by the time that maid came in, though – the last thing he needed was another lecture like the one she had given when she had caught a girl in his bed for the first time when Draco had forgotten about that stupid sign that he was supposed to post on the door if he didn't want someone to come in. The next day when he had put it on, the room didn't get cleaned, so he had taken to getting the girls out before eleven.

Draco quickly finished the tray of food and left it out in the hall to be collected. He had had a late dinner, so only had about an hour to kill before the clubs really started getting good (he had made the mistake of being too early the first night he went out and had sworn to never show up to an empty bar again). He pulled the out the Quibbler that his owl had delivered that morning and began to read. After he had finished with the magazine, he took a shower and refreshed his appearance-altering charms – they had a nasty habit of wearing off every twelve hours. Draco pulled on a black dress shirt and jeans and wandered out of his room, wondering what bar to go to that night.


	3. Liquid Cocaine

A/N – I know this has been a while coming, I spend last weekend camping. I know this is short, but hopefully I'll get the next chapter up soon. I know nothing of the British nightclub scene, I made up Mystique, and am hoping most things are the same as in Canada. The gin and tonic part is based on a real incident I had at a bar. Thank you for the reviews/reads! I hope you are enjoying the story so far.

* * *

Hermione was three quarters of her way through her fourth gin and tonic, and was starting to regret her hasty decision to come out. She was standing at the back bar of Mystique, one of the nicest clubs in London, and the only guys who had approached her had been either extremely drunk or not exactly attractive. She wasn't about to try and rebound from Ron with an ugly guy, seeing as he had gone for a really hot girl. She looked around the crowded club, scoping out the crowd, and couldn't even see any likely prospects.

She drained her drink, and turned back to the bar with a sigh. Muggle alcohol wasn't nearly as potent as wizard stuff, but it certainly tasted better than that awful firewhisky. The bartender was at the other end of the bar and she went to signal him for another drink, but felt a presence by her side. She looked sideways, then up to the man who had appeared beside her at the packed bar. She hadn't noticed him in her sweep – he was easily the most attractive guy there. Brown, slightly messy hair, deep tan, pretty tall. His face was slightly pointy, but it didn't detract from his attractiveness. He looked down at her, and she felt a jolt of recognition when his cool grey eyes met hers, but couldn't quite place him. His brow creased in apparent confusion as he looked down at her, then shook his head and looked away quickly to signal the bartender.

"Want a drink?" Hermione jumped. She really wasn't expecting him to talk to her, he had seemed to dismiss her with the first glance. His voice seemed familiar as well, but the four drinks had gone to her head, and she really couldn't place it, or even be bothered trying. He was cute, he was buying her a drink, that's all that mattered.

"Uh, sure. Gin and tonic," she replied, raising her voice to be heard over the music. He turned to look at her, with eyebrows raised.

"Seriously? I've never met a girl who drinks those."

"I like them."

"Well, maybe you should branch out a bit," and without consulting Hermione, ordered two 'liquid cocaine' shots, whatever those were. She was slightly annoyed that he had mocked and then ignored her request, but as she was about to voice her objection, the drinks arrived.

Hermione stared in shock at the shots that were in front of her. They were brown with little gold flecks in them, and looked entirely unappetizing.

"Going to chicken out?" the guy asked, taking a hold of his glass and raising his eyebrows at her.

"Never," she replied, galvanized by his rudeness, and reached for her glass, picked it up and downed the shot. It actually didn't taste that bad, and the cinnamon aftertaste was actually pleasant. When she looked down, another pair of shots had appeared, and he was looking at her expectantly.

"Fine," she heard herself say, and took the next shot.

"Impressive," the guy replied (why didn't she know his name again?), and smiled at her. His smile gave her a chill down her spine. He wasn't incredibly attractive, but there was something almost mesmerizing about his eyes. "What's your name?"

"Her… Harriet. And you?" Hermione wasn't sure why she had lied about her name – it probably had something to do with the new identity she had created for the night. And because her real name was impossible to get people to pronounce on first try.

"I'm Drew," he replied, and caught her arm. "Want to dance?"

"Let me have another drink first," the newly christened Harriet did something that Hermione would never have done – ordered another shot of liquid cocaine, and went off to dance with a guy she had never met before.

Three hours later, Hermione was in the bathroom. She had left Drew outside, because she had really had to use the toilet, but was now distracted by the sight of her new, blonde, green-clad self in the massive mirrors, and was having difficulty keeping herself upright. Drew had continued to buy her drinks, and she was wearing those stupid heels that she had transfigured from her boring flats earlier in the evening. Hermione had no idea if there was a spell to make her feet stop hurting, and even if she did, she had to remember she was in a muggle bar, dancing with an attractive muggle boy who she was sure only wasn't kissing her because of the protection spells she had put on herself, that only allowed guys to dance with her. Giggling, she flipped her new hair. This had been such a good idea. She was having more fun tonight than she had in all the stupid months of dating Ron. He had always looked on her as more of a package deal, and never really lusted after just what she looked like, and she was sick of it. She liked this attention, and Drew was much more good-looking than that stupid Parvati. And she knew he really was attracted to her – the dancing had revealed that much. And she wanted him, that was for sure.

She scurried into a stall, and made a decision that Hermione would never have made – but this new girl, this Harriet, was impulsive. It was liberating. She took out her wand, and whispered the words to remove her protection spells.


	4. Hotel Lust

A/N: Here's the next chapter… I hope you like it, let me know what you think!

* * *

Draco stood by the bar, waiting for Harriet to come back from the bathroom. He had never waited for a girl in the whole month he had been here, trying to forget, it had been too much effort, too much time by himself. Instant gratification had been so much better, he had just moved on to the next available girl, losing himself in the alcohol and the adrenaline of the chase.

There was something strange about this girl. He saw in a detached way how attractive she was, and his body certainly thought so as well, but he wasn't tempted to suggest they go back to his hotel room or anything. But at the same time, he didn't want any other girl tonight. He could very easily leave now and take the redhead who was looking at him speculatively from the other end of the bar back to his room for another night of mindless pleasure, but there was something about Harriet that made him want her, and only her. This was ridiculous. He was here to get laid, to forget who he was, and she just kept reminding him that there were actually decent girls in the world. In the few snippets of drunken conversation they had had, she had come across as witty and as intelligent as a drunk girl in a tiny dress could be… and damn, that dress looked good on her. He had always been partial to green, his house colour back at Hogwarts, but it was taken to a new level on this girl. She was slightly familiar looking, but he had probably seen her before at this club, he came here often.

Now that she was out of his sight, he couldn't begin to understand why he hadn't done anything other than dance with her earlier in the night. She had certainly seemed flirtatious enough. When she came back, this was going to go much further. Enough of this ridiculous game of flirting, drinking and dancing. He really didn't see why he hadn't already had her back in his hotel room. Scowling at the drink in his hand, he didn't notice Harriet coming back until she was right in front of him, teetering in those ridiculously high, ridiculously sexy heels. He let his eyes ramble over her body, mentally blessing the Muggle who came up with little green dresses and high heels.

"You look gloomy," she remarked, leaning on the bar beside him.

"I was weighing my options, you took about an hour in there" Draco replied sourly. It hadn't really been that long, but now that she was back, it felt like it had been ages since he had seen her. He drained his drink and put it down on the bar.

"Well can I make it up to you?" she asked innocently, tilting her head and playing with her hair.

"How would you do that?"

With a look that left no doubt to her intentions, she took a step towards him, wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled his head down to hers.

Rational thought went out the window as he pulled her even closer to him, molding her body to his, running his hands through her hair and along her back. A few thoughtless minutes later, he jerked back to reality. With a lot of effort, he pulled his head away from hers.

"You do realize we're still in a club," he drawled, struggling to regain his composure. Usually kisses didn't manage to affect him this much, but rational thought was a struggle. All he wanted to do was take that dress off of her and take her against the bar, but he knew that wasn't possible. The overriding thought in his head, the only rational one, was to get her back to his hotel room as fast as humanly possible. Apparition if possible, but in his state it probably wouldn't work, and in a muggle club... at least the hotel was across the street.

"What do you suggest?" Harriet breathed in his ear. He reacted by picking her up in his arms, and carrying her out of the club. He wasn't sure he'd trust those shoes to walk as fast as he wanted to get her out of there.

Next thing he knew, they were in his hotel room, clothes were everywhere, and he was tumbling Harriet onto his bed.

* * *

Draco lay back, completely satiated. That was the best sex he had had in a while, and he had had quite a bit of sex. While Harriet wasn't quite as adventurous as that brunette he had slept with the night before, she was honestly into it. With a lot of girls he had been with, they were out for their own pleasure only, but this girl really seemed to want to make sure he had a good time too. And that he had. He was just drifting off to sleep, when he felt the bed move beside him. He rolled over sleepily to see Harriet sitting upright, looking very awake and really quite delectable with a lack of clothing on her upper half.

She coloured when she realized what he was looking at, and pulled the sheet up to cover herself.

"I'm hungry," she announced, eliciting a groan from Draco.

"Just order room service, the tefelone is right there," he replied, annoyed that she wasn't letting him sleep, messing up the muggle word in his sleepiness. Luckily, she didn't notice.

"But I want a sausage roll from that all night bakery around the corner."

This girl was getting more and more annoying. He couldn't very well just let her walk around London at one in the morning by herself, and she seemed adamant about this stupid sausage roll. He could give her much better sausage.

"Fine."

Draco sat up way too quickly, and the room started to spin. The liquid cocaine really hadn't been a good idea, nor had the multiple gin and tonics Harriet had foisted upon him in retaliation. A sausage roll might not be the worst idea, could make him sober up enough to go for another round later in the night. Throwing on a pair of jeans and his rumpled dress shirt, he turned back to the bed. was still sitting there, inexplicably giggling.

"What are you laughing at?" he asked, getting more annoyed by the minute.

"Your hair is sticking up everywhere," she choked out between giggles. She was obviously still slightly drunk.

Draco went to the bathroom to look at himself, and she did have a point. While he was trying to stick this stupid unruly brown hair that somehow he had decided to make thick with that stupid charm, not knowing how awful it would be to flatten down, Harriet came up behind him, wearing one of his other dress shirts that had been thrown over the side of the chair overtop of the dress, which she hadn't managed to pull up all the way. She caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror, and started laughing all over again.

"I look even worse!" she laughed, and his annoyance lessened slightly. At least she could laugh at herself.

"Let's just go get these sausage rolls you want so badly," Draco growled, grabbing her by the waist. He may as well get as much out of this as possible. Narcissa would have a fit if she knew he was taking a muggle girl to get muggle food - actually caving to a demand instead of just using her. The thought actually made the capitulation easier to bear.


	5. Sausage Rolls & Lost Souls

A/N: I am sorry for the long wait… I decided that I was going to try this whole eight hours of sleep a night thing, which didn't really leave me much time for anything, but I finally finished this chapter! Thanks for the reviews, they make me very happy. I hope you like this!

* * *

Hermione's head was spinning as she waited for the elevator with Drew. It was partly from the alcohol, but mostly from the realization of what she had just done – gone to a muggle club alone, removed her protection charms, and had possibly the drunkest sex of her life… and it had been amazing. Ron had been gentle with her always, which had been sweet and she had never thought she would want anything more, but after this rough, somewhat sloppy time, she realized she had had no idea what she had been missing. She knew she would regret this whole idea in the morning, and probably go back to pining over that stupid redheaded git, but right now, she was just going to enjoy this. After she got her sausage roll. It felt like her stomach was eating her from the inside.

Drew did not seem pleased about leaving the hotel for sausage rolls, but at least he was decent enough not to let her go alone. Hermione guessed he wasn't used to girls demanding food at this time of night, after what they had just done. Ron had always wanted to fall straight asleep, and Ginny had told her Harry was the same way, so she assumed all guys were like that.

The elevator finally arrived, and Hermione scurried in as quickly as she could, given her odd attire and aching feet stuffed back into her murderous heels. She didn't know what had motivated her to put on a man's dress shirt over her tight green dress, which she hadn't been able to pull up all the way. It was stupidly tight, but she had looked good. Right now, she looked like she had just had sex, which was true, but she wasn't sure she wanted the whole world to know.

Hermione decided to break the silence.

"Do I look as ridiculous in this outfit as I feel?" she asked, looking up at him beguilingly. She may as well flirt shamelessly with him, it wasn't like it mattered anymore.

"I would imagine so," Drew replied, looking slightly amused. "You're going to get one or two looks, but everyone around is probably just as drunk as you seem to be."

Hermione felt herself flush. She couldn't deny her drunkenness, as he had been with her as she had consumed most of her drinks that night. The final number had been a sight excessive for a girl her size.

"Well that would be your fault now wouldn't it?" she snapped.

Drew burst out laughing, which was not the response she had expected.

"You're a sharp one, aren't you?"

Emboldened by his response, she looked up at him and responded.

"Better believe it."

He smirked at her, and the elevator doors finally opened into the lobby. Hermione hesitated to leave, embarrassed slightly by her appearance, but felt her hand being grabbed and Drew pulling her out of the elevator.

"There's no way we're not going to go get these sausage rolls now, after you dragged me out of that amazing bed."

Hermione let herself be led out of the hotel, out onto the street outside. Her stomach and her pride wouldn't let her turn around and bolt for the elevator like she wanted to when the person at the front desk gave her a look. She led them the rest of the way to the all-night bakery in slightly awkward silence, punctuated by her periodic stumblings, and joining the short line once they arrived.

While waiting in line, Hermione's thoughts turned the man she was standing beside. Drew seemed to be an enigma. He looked to be about Hermione's age, too young, especially in the Muggle world, to have a job to afford a hotel room that was that nice. Her thoughts were abruptly cut off by their arrival to the front of the line. Drew ordered two sausage rolls to go –he apparently still wanted to go back to bed, not that she could blame him.

Hermione took a big bite, and sighed with pleasure.

"These are better than I remembered them being," she commented, glancing briefly over at Drew, who seemed to be in the process of inhaling his as fast as possible. He nodded, his mouth comically full of food, and Hermione forgot the awkwardness that she had felt, based on her ridiculous clothing and the fact that she had just slept with this basically anonymous stranger, and started giggling again.

"You enjoy it?" she teased, moving a bit closer to him. He was just as sexy as she had thought in the club. With his mouth full of food, all he could manage in reply was a 'mmhmmmmmm.' Hermione turned her attention back to her own roll, devouring it in short order. Her stomach felt a bit more settled, and when she was finished wiping her fingers off on the napkins Drew had grabbed from the bakery, she looked up to find him staring at her with his inscrutable grey eyes. They were much lighter than they had been earlier, when they had been in his hotel room, and they looked puzzled.

"So what exactly were you doing out in London alone?" he asked. Before she could think it through, she was spilling everything that had happened in the past month to this complete stranger, leaving out the whole part about the wizarding world, of course. She told him about all of her problems with Ron, – calling him Rob – how he had cheated on her, she had just figured it out, after he broke up with her… how she had always expected and been expected to end up with Ron for the rest of her life, and how all of her friends were related to him in some way, Harry (whom she called Matt, for some reason) dating her best girl friend, who was Ron's sister.

"Well that seems slightly incestuous," Drew cut in.

"It didn't seem so at the time, but looking back on it…" Hermione collapsed into giggles again, instead of the tears she had felt coming. Laughing was a much better feeling. Looking back on it, it was slightly ridiculous.

She continued with her story, up until the letter from Harry today and her decision to do something totally unlike her previous domestic self and live a bit, something she hadn't really ever done. She felt somewhat liberated

"So that's my story," she concluded with. "Now it's your turn. Why are you in London?"

There was a long pause. When she looked over at Drew, he looked slightly pained.

"Or you don't have to tell me, that's alright too."

"No, no," Drew replied. "Basically, I'm running away from my family."

"In a hotel that looks like that?!" Hermione burst out, then covered her mouth with her hand. "That was slightly tactless, I'm sorry," she mustered by way of an apology.

"It is pretty nice, isn't it," he continued, seeming slightly bitter. "My grandparents were nice enough to leave me some of my own money. Basically, my family is quite wealthy, and my mom wants me to settle down, the sooner the better, with a girl of… equivalent social status. I know I'm going to have to settle down eventually, but I just needed to get out. The pressure of having to live up to all of her expectations, all the time, is kind of overwhelming sometimes. I don't know what I want to do with my life, but I don't just want to follow the path that's been prescribed for me since birth. All the girls she's paraded in front of me are actually the most annoying people I've ever met. I don't want to marry a girl who only knows how to fucking do her hair and primp for the next time…"

He stopped his outburst abruptly, and looked embarrassed.

"You didn't really need to hear all of that, I'm sorry," he ground out.

"It's alright," she replied, and did the only thing she could think of to get the light back into his eyes, the light that had fled with the first mention of his family – she kissed him, gently.

He broke away after a few seconds, and framed her face with his hands. A tenuous connection had been forged between the two of them, the two lost souls who met for a night to forget their pasts.

"Thank you for listening," he whispered, then moved his hands down to her arms and held her at arms length so he could look her up and down.

"On a lighter note… it's a slight possibility that you look better in that shirt than I do."

"Arrogant jerk," she giggled, but her laugh was cut short as he drew her into a long, lingering kiss on the sidewalk in front of the hotel.

"Spend the night with me?" Drew asked.

Hermione looked into his eyes and nodded.


	6. Morning Revelations

A/N: I know it's been actually ages since I last posted, but I hope this makes up for it. I know it's short, but I should be able to get a significant amount out next week. I knowww this chapter isn't exactly what was expected but I hope you like it anyways!

I really really appreciate all the reviews – you guys are awesome. :)

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Draco was jolted back into consciousness by the alarm charm that he had set so that only he could hear it. It was time to refresh his appearance-altering charms, so that whatever girl he was with wouldn't wake up to find someone different in the bed than they expected. He rolled over, put his hand into the drawer of the nightstand, and muttered the words to the charm quietly, as to not disturb Harriet. He rolled back over, put his arm back over her, and promptly went back to sleep.

Later that morning, Draco rolled over, and slowly, fuzzily, woke up. He decided not to open his eyes yet - the light was just too bright. Last night had been very embarrassing. He had had way too much to drink, which led to confessions that should never have happened.

After they had gone for sausage rolls, and they had started talking about their lives. He had never done that before – he had always thought it would be a huge mistake, never tell a girl who you're sleeping with your issues, they like guys more dark and mysterious. Then he had asked Harriet, like a needy little schoolboy, if she would spend the night with him. What a feminine thing to say. Although, it had gotten her back into his bed, where they had spent the next hour entertaining themselves without much talking. Most girls were blasé about sex, but Harriet had really just given herself to him completely, holding nothing back. The combination of his experience and her eagerness had somehow coalesced into a perfect meeting of desire that had gone beyond what Draco had ever experienced before.

The sex gave way to another embarrassing episode of sharing. The girl had had a tough deal of it with that moronic boyfriend of hers. If the sex had been half as good with her boyfriend as it had been with Draco, the guy had been crazy to give her up. She seemed like a sweet girl, as well. Sweet isn't exactly what he went for usually, but it had been a nice change. Pretty naïve to not realize Roy? Rob? was cheating on her, but the guy was an asshole. Apparently they had been expected to be together for basically ever by all of their friends, who now didn't know which side to choose. Draco knew the expectation bit all too well.

Then it had apparently been his turn, and he had gone on and on about his family, and all the expectations foisted upon him. He had had to leave out all the dark lord stuff, obviously, but it was pretty easy to translate it to muggle terms. As embarrassing as it was in retrospect, at the time it had really felt good to get it all off of his chest. Harriet had been a great listener… apparently empathy was something she had in spades. Most girls' eyes lit up with a greedy little light when they had found out Draco was rich, but hers hadn't. She seemed genuinely sympathetic, and hesitantly gave some encouragement and advice to resist his archaic obligations – which he guessed they were. When she put it into perspective, it all seemed fairly medieval, but that was how the wizarding world was. Her advice was good, and when she started thinking and talking about his situation, her apparent intelligence that had been shrouded by the alcohol and sex earlier shone though. Draco didn't know what it was, but when she spoke, she came across as smart. And really sexy. Eventually he had decided that there had been too much talking – one of the best decisions he had made all night, and tumbled her back to the bed, where they had spent the next while forgetting about all that had happened to both of them, and just focusing on the two of them, themselves, together for the night. They had fallen asleep tangled in each others limbs, but they had drifted apart to find much more comfortable sleeping arrangements.

Draco started half thinking of ways to keep her around for the next few months before he went back home, but his thoughts were interrupted by the second alarm charm that he had set. It was time to get up and clear out so that the maid didn't find them en deshabille. He stretched, opened his eyes and glanced over to the other side of the bed.

He really must have drank too much. Draco could have sworn Harriet was a blonde, but the hair on the other pillow was dark brown. He reached over, brushed the hair back from her face, and then jerked his hand back as if it had been burned. That face was all too familiar when coupled with that hair.

Hermione Granger. He had slept with Hermione Granger. The bushy-haired, buck-toothed bane of his existence at Hogwarts. Harriet was Hermione Granger.

Draco lay back down and shut his eyes. Maybe it wasn't actually true, maybe it was a trick of the imagination and too much to drink. He ventured another peek, but it was still Granger.

Then it hit him. Not only did he sleep with Hermione Granger, he spilled most of his life story to her. And contemplated dating her. And liked her. Something was very wrong here. Something fundamentally wrong with his life in that he could spill his life story to GRANGER, of all people, and feel good about it. Change had to happen. Now. Going home and facing his mother couldn't be any worse than this low that he'd stooped to.

Panicked into action, Draco slithered out of bed, taking care not to disturb the now-brunette on the other side of the bed. He grabbed his wand out of the side table and cast a spell over the bed to ensure Granger kept sleeping. The overriding thought on his mind was that he had to get out. To go home. He transfigured the book on the nightstand into a massive suitcase, and started throwing all of his clothes into it.

Ten minutes later, he was all packed and ready just to get the hell out of there. He shrunk his suitcase to a manageable size, and put it outside the door. He was about to leave when it occurred to him that he should probably leave Granger a note. He found a piece of hotel notepaper, and scrawled quickly:

'_Harriet – had to leave early, mother tracked me down. Thanks. – Drew'_

With that, he walked to the door, removed the sleeping spell on the bed, and went to check out of the hotel for good.


	7. Confusion & Brown

A/N: So I'm back at school… and this will probably be updated extremely rarely from now on. I have an idea of where I want to take it, but I really just don't have the time over the next few months to do it. I am awfully sorry, but hopefully you enjoy this… it's pretty long! Thank you again for all the reviews, I'm so so glad you all like it as much as I like writing it.

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Hermione woke up gradually to a searing pain behind her forehead. Apparently the alcohol she had consumed last night wasn't going to make this morning nearly as much fun as last night… oh god. Last night. Some parts stood out vividly in her brain, playing out in her mind like scenes from a particularly embarrassing movie. She had only meant to have a few drinks, maybe snog a cute guy, prove she could still be attractive, have some fun. She had never intended to spill her issues all out on an unsuspecting (although really attractive) guy. It was embarrassing, and never would have happened if it weren't for those vile liquid cocaine things that she had had way too many of.

Although, Drew had been a really good listener. Her story had been the typical 20-something breakup sob story, nothing really original at all, but he had actually seemed pretty interested, and offered commentary that was actually relevant.

Hermione didn't think last night had been a typical hookup – muggle or otherwise. She began to recall bits of the long story Drew had told, and felt relieved that it hadn't been just her talking excessively. She had started it, if she remembered correctly – that revelation sent a fresh stabbing pain to her temples – but Drew had reciprocated. His story was much more interesting than hers. Muggle wealth didn't buy happiness, as much as they apparently thought it did.

Thinking about it more, she really felt for Drew. She had never really known the pain of having her family not support what she wanted to do. Her friends had had varying amounts of parental support, but never had they had a parent really actively campaign to run their life and what they were going to do with it, especially at this age. It was sad, in a way, that his mom couldn't accept that he just needed to get away and to make something of himself in his own way. Running away probably hadn't been the best solution to his issues, but she could see where he was coming from.

After they had finished talking, they had gone back to the usual hookup routine… only that hadn't exactly been typical either. Hermione felt her face grow hot as she remembered how uninhibited the alcohol had made her. She had never let her guard down like that with Ron – but then again, she had never had sex like that with Ron. Maybe there was something to forgetting her insecurities. Even though they had both been drunk, somehow they had managed to connect on both an emotional and a sexual level that, along with the free feeling Hermione had felt after unloading her Ron story, made the whole experience pure pleasure and sensation. After the second time they had made love, Hermione couldn't have even fathomed going for another sausage roll. She had collapsed into Drew's arms and gone straight to sleep.

She couldn't regret this night. If nothing else, it had been great sex and good conversation. She felt liberated, knowing that Ron had never been perfect for her, as if he had been, the sex wouldn't have been so pale in comparison to this. And maybe… maybe this thing with Drew could turn into something. He had seemed so articulate, self-possessed. Hermione let herself get lost in daydreams for a few minutes, but her realistic side kicked in, and she had to firmly tell herself that it just wouldn't work. Being a witch was such an integral part of who she was, she couldn't even dream of a future with a muggle.

A groan escaped her as she realized that at some point she was going to have to get up and get dressed and go home. Who knows what her parents would think. The whole living at home thing was grating, especially at this age. Hermione rolled over, and hesitantly opened her eyes. The sun was blindingly bright – apparently they had left the curtains open. She immediately flipped over to face the bed, and was shocked to find the other half empty. Blinking a few times to clear her pounding head, she looked again. Drew was definitely not there. Maybe in the bathroom?

She went to get up, dragging the sheet with her to combat her nakedness. The room looked much emptier than it had when she had come in last night… almost as if Drew hadn't ever lived there. Waking across towards the bathroom, a sheet of paper by the door caught her eye. She

'_Harriet – had to leave early, mother tracked me down. Thanks. – Drew'_

Seriously? Hermione tried to think rationally about this – maybe it was true? But how could he have gotten a phone call, packed and left without her hearing? Alcohol didn't usually make her sleep deeply, but it was possible? There was something fishy about this. Maybe he didn't connect with her like she did with him… but then why would he pack up and leave? Wouldn't he just kick her out? She sighed, and gave up trying to stretch her mind any further. She needed to wake up and get rid of this god-awful headache before puzzling this out. The bathroom door was just to her left – some water to her face might wake her up.

She walked into the bathroom, and her heart almost stopped. In the mirror there was the usual Hermione, looking worse for wear… pale skin and BROWN HAIR? No wonder Drew had run out this morning. What must he have thought, bringing this attractive blonde girl home and waking up with a brunette monster in his bed?

But maybe he didn't know. The note had to have been left pretty early for her not to have woken up while he was packing. That he had to leave to avoid his mom was totally plausible, wasn't it? Hermione began to hate that stupid nitwit Flitwick for not telling them in class that this stupid charm expired, who would have known? Well… thinking about it now, Hermione vaguely recalled some mention in a book she had read, but seriously! You think they would advertise it more prominently! 'By the way, in tough situations, you may all of a sudden become the person you were before,' or something!

Hermione grabbed her purse from outside the room, and rummaged through it for her wand. Too little too late, probably, but she cast the appearance-altering charm again, and then cast a silence bubble around herself, just so that she could scream out her anger. How stupid could she have been.

Storming around the room, Hermione found her little dress from the night before, and transfigured it into a more day-appropriate outfit of a green dress and jeans. After climbing into them, she sat with an oomph on the end of the bed.

Merlin, what had she done?

Her self-indulgent thoughts were interrupted by a knock on the door

'So you're the latest one,' the maid intoned, in a thick, cockney drawl.

'This happens a lot?' Hermione was even more mortified.

'Well, he started getting them out before it was my time to clean in the morning, but he brings girls back a lot.' Surveying the room, the maid added 'but you're the first one who's made him clear all out. Heard he checked out this morning. Struck me as a bit odd, that one. Seemed to have no idea what was going on. One time I came in and saw him holding the phone all funny, upside-down like.'

'He didn't know how to use a phone?' That was odd.

'No, and kept cursing 'moddles' when trying to work it, until he noticed me.'

'Muggles?' Hermione was floored.

'Ya, that's it. And he had the strangest clothes. I took a peek in the closet there one time, and there were these black robe like things. He never struck me as a Goth, but who knew.'

Hermione's head began spinning, while the maid continued to chatter on, talking about her niece who was a 'Goth.' Was Drew a wizard? Muggles and robes couldn't be a coincidence. Parts of his story began falling into place, his difficulty with telling the story of his mother, like he was struggling with details. But the heart of the story had rung true. He must be one of the wizarding elites… but he couldn't have gone to Hogwarts. She would have known him. He had looked rather familiar, but the community wasn't that small, it's possible he had been sent to Durmstrang or something.

Rather dazed, Hermione stood up, and the maid's waterfall of words halted.

'Off now, are you sweetie?'

'Yeah, I am… thank you for cleaning.'

'Aw hunny, don't worry about it. I've cleaned worse. You're one of the nicer girls he's brought back, you take care now.'

Hermione went to the bathroom, to get her wand and purse, and saw a dress shirt tossed over the shower curtain rod that Drew had obviously missed in his rush. She contemplated leaving it there, but then thought that it could prove useful in deducing who he was. A shrinking charm made the shirt fit into her purse, and she wandered out of the room in a daze. She had to figure out who this Drew was.


	8. Decisions

A/N: The terminology in this is probably off, I'm very sorry, but I hope you can get past it and (hopefully) enjoy! There should be more updates over the holidays – at the moment, I'm procrastinating studying for exams, but I'm home next week and should have plenty of time to work on it then.

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Draco was back at the Manor. After the Granger/Harriet incident, he had come straight home. The last thing he needed was for her to find him or figure out who he was.

The things he had told her, that was just embarrassing. The things he had wanted to tell her… well that was worse. He had wanted to tell her about his confusion, his aimlessness. After being the Dark Lord's chosen one, how he all of a sudden was shunted into obscurity. The awful things that he had done, that he had seen done, ever since he was a kid. How his father "let" him watch the Death Eaters torture innocent muggles, how cool it had seemed when he was younger. Looking back on it, it made him sick, but he really missed the sense of belonging. He couldn't find that anywhere anymore.

He hadn't told her all of this, obviously because he thought she wouldn't understand, because she was a muggle, but now that he knew she was a witch… no. No. He couldn't be thinking about how he wanted to spill his guts, to Granger of all people. It had just felt so good, just to talk candidly about some of his problems. But there was no way he could ever have that again. It's not like Pansy wanted to listen to his inner thoughts. All she wanted was his money, and oddly enough, his name. He guessed that Malfoy, even after the disgrace and the loss, was still attractive to some people. His mom didn't talk about anything but potential grandchildren to keep her busy and distracted from his father, whose house arrest made him extremely irritable to be around. Pansy was still the bride of choice, but Narcissa was getting desperate.

"Get a grip, Draco," he muttered. She meant nothing to him. It had been good sex, and that was all. He had to forget about the emotional connection, albeit brief, that they had made. All he wanted was to be part of something again. It didn't matter what, just something. That was why he was determined to find something productive for him to do.

That was a part of Granger's advice that had actually been good. He had to start thinking of himself – not that he hadn't in his running away, but now he actually had a future in mind. He needed to do something, and he was determined to find something to fit him.

In the past three months, he'd done a lot of thinking. Too much thinking. He had made lists of his possible options, what he was qualified for with his incomplete Hogwarts education. His Gringott's vault and generally decent school grades would get him past many barriers, but he had had to figure out what he actually wanted to do.

At Hogwarts, his favourite (and best) subject had been Potions, and in his research he had come across an exclusive school affiliated with the Healing Academy that taught Potions Mastery. He would have to work his way through, and then up the ranks, but eventually he could become a Master Brewer, creating extremely difficult potions for various uses, mostly medical. That had really sparked an interest in him, and last week he had sent his black owl, Corvus, off with his application and a generous donation to the school.

All of this had obviously been done in secret, with frequent trips to 'meet friends' in Hogsmeade, and Corvus as his means of communication to the various schools. As soon as he got in, he was going to have to tell his mother and father that he was moving out, which was going to be an issue, but the Academy was off in the town of Baneward, and he just wouldn't be able to apperate every day, and study at home. No chance. He had to move out on his own.

Realistically, he had no idea how he was going to convince her it was a good idea. As much as he wanted to move out from under her wing, as annoying as she was, she was still his mother. He didn't care one jot about his father, he could continue to rot in the basement muttering about the good old days when muggles were still meat and whatever until he died, for all Draco cared. The man who he had worshiped as a kid was now exposed to him as a fraud. All Lucius had been was a suck up to the Dark Lord, and when push came to shove he bowed under the pressure. Not that Draco hadn't, but Draco had been a teenager.

A tap on the window interrupted his musings. It was Corvus, with a heavy, official-looking letter clutched in his claws. Letting the bird in, Draco snatched the letter from his hands, and tore it open. In green, swirling handwriting it read:

_Mr. Draco Malfoy,_

_We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted for late acceptance to the Potions Mastery program at the Wizarding Healing Academy, Baneward Campus. Enclosed you will find all the information regarding rates and preparation for the school year, beginning this September. _

_We look forward to having you in our school community._

_Westley Winchester_

_Dean of Admissions _

Draco allowed himself a moment of jubilation, pumping his fist and whispering an exclamation of joy, but quickly restrained himself and dove into the list of materials he would need. Excited for school – that was a first. He felt like Granger must have… oh god. Granger. Why did his thoughts always come back around to her? It must be just the sex. She had completely tricked him into believing she was an actual muggle. What a little bitch. She had looked nothing like her usual, unattractive, buck-toothed self, until he had woken up in the morning. Yeah, he had been a bit disguised too, but still! He had a reason to be there. She was just bitchy about that weasel dumping her. Which, come to think of it really must suck - she obviously doesn't have any friends now, but really. But she's really better off without that redheaded git. Draco found himself getting angrier and angrier, but eventually forced himself back to the letter.

He would have to go to Hogsmede very soon to get the supplies he would need, and find an apartment in Baneward. Because he had applied late, his acceptance had only come a week before he was due to begin classes, so there was a bit of a rush.

Telling his mom could wait – better to be all set up and ready to go before he told her, so she couldn't object too much. Checking the time, Draco realized he had several hours before the stores in Hogsmede closed – he could get his supplies all today, and begin apartment-hunting tomorrow. Throwing on a black robe atop his jeans and t-shirt, he disapparated with a pop

Once in Hogsmede, he took a closer look at the list. Most of the items could be bought at the potions store, but he was going to have to go to the bookstore as well. The more rare ingredients were provided by the school, but each student was expected to have their own basic supplies. He decided to stop by the potions store first and place his order, and while it was being prepared, go to pick up his books.

After greeting the storekeeper warily at the potions store (they didn't exactly have an exemplary history, having fought against one another in the final battle), Draco learned that it would take about two hours for all of his required materials to be packaged. After running several errands to the bookstore and to Gringotts to take out some galleons, he decided to stop in at the pub and have a firewhisky. The stores were too crowded with Hogwarts kids and their harried parents trying to get all their supplies together, and Draco just wanted some peace and quiet to ride out the

As he walked into the pub, he gave the place a cursory glance around to ensure nobody he knew from back at Hogwarts was around, and was reassured by the age of the crowd. Apparently he was the only one who wanted a drink at 3 in the afternoon who wasn't a stressed out parent. Getting a firewhisky from the bartender, he chose a table at the very back of the pub, and pulled out one of his new books to peruse to pass the time. He felt like such a keen student, which filled him with disgust, but the subject matter was more interesting than anything else he had read recently. He lost himself in the book, and before he knew it he had drank more firewhiskys than he had intended to.

The bell on the door jingled, and he was filled with a sense of forboding. It was confirmed when he looked up and saw the last person on earth he wanted to see: Granger and Pottyface. Seeing her was like a punch to the stomach – one part of him couldn't stop remembering how amazing she looked naked, a bigger part hated her for everything, including disguising herself and taking his secrets, but there was this very disconcerting part that was _nervous._ Draco Malfoy didn't get nervous around girls, let alone mudbloods like Granger. It must just be a reaction to the firewhisky – this pub didn't exactly serve the best spirits.

As Pottyface and Granger made their way to the bar, Draco affected his best sneer in case they looked his way. When they didn't, he turned his attention back to his book, but his involvement was only superficial. Every once in a while he would look up to see Granger laughing weakly at something Potter said, over their Butterbeers. She looked thinner than usual, not like he cared. Maybe Weasel had taken her back and she had gone on a diet to make herself more attractive to him, or something stupid like that.

His wand buzzed – it was time to go pick up his potion supplies and go home. Unfortunately, to get to the door of the pub he had to pass right through Granger's line of sight, but it was now or never. Draco shrunk his book, put it in his pocket, and got up. He sauntered over to the bar to settle his bill, then turned around to find Granger looking at him. Their eyes met, and Draco froze for a split second. There was no mistaking it, those eyes were the ones he had looked into for that awful, fateful night, spilt his secrets to. They were also glaring at him. He covered up his momentary lapse hastily with his trademark smirk, and raised his eyebrows at her before ducking out of the pub and into the street.


	9. Potions & Runins

A/N: Ok well this has been a while… almost a year I guess. Apologies for taking so so long, although I can't promise anything new anytime soon. Hopefully this tides you over, but it may not be enough. It did feel good to be writing again so I'm thinking maybe I'll start working on this again. I read my reviews the other day and they really motivated be to write this so I hope you like it!

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He must be from overseas. That was the only conclusion Hermione could come to, after exhaustive searching. She had tried to perform a spell on the shirt she had taken with her, but all it returned was a ghostly image of him. She had tried looking through all the old records – a wealthy wizard named Drew, or Andrew, couldn't be that hard to find but apparently none existed.

However, her choices had been to either obsess over this or be angry about Ron all the time. He had been flaunting Parvati all over the wizarding world it seemed, and even the Quibbler had reported about their blossoming romance. When that issue had come to her attention (it had been sent to her anonymously, probably by Ron), she had written three scathing letters and sent none of them.

The isolation was the hardest part. Without Ron, she was completely cut off from the Burrow and all of the people who had become like family to her. Ginny tried, even Mrs. Weasley sent her a letter, but there was no way she could go anywhere that she would see Ron. The contact really just hurt her, knowing that she probably wouldn't ever see those people regularly again, and that began to depress her even more that losing Ron had.

Harry wrote every so often, but him and Ginny were getting serious and he couldn't really say anything that didn't have something to do with her. Crookshanks had become her only companion, and she couldn't wait for school to start again just so she could have something to immerse herself in. The search for Drew had become a bit of an obsession, to the point where she caught herself going over dozens of ancestry and genealogy books at the Hogsmeade library looking for something, anything.

She just couldn't get him out of her head. He had been such a good listener. Somehow intelligent conversation had shone through the drunken haze, and his empathy for her dime a dozen sob story had been surprising. She just wanted to know who he was, to maybe just see him again to see if he was okay with it, try and explain herself. How stupid could she have been to forget about that charm. She was mortified just thinking about it.

Hermione finally had to give up on trying to find out who Drew was. Nothing had come up, and the obsession was just getting stupid. The maid must just have been wrong, or misheard, or muddled about another hotel patron. Plus, her book lists had come for the new Healing semester, and she had been getting a good head start on all the reading.

Harry had owled the other day, and asked if she could go to Hogsmeade to help him get his books and to catch up. Hermione reluctantly agreed after assurance that Ron would not be there that day, and apparated into the town square to meet him at 11:00.

After a successful day of shopping, they decided to sit down in a cosy little bar and just talk.

They chatted idly about Ginny, which Harry didn't realize hurt Hermione more than she let on. She cast around for something to change the topic to, and noticed a familiar figure in the bar.

"Is that Malfoy in the corner?" she asked, interrupting his talk about how he had gone to a muggle play with Ginny and how wonderful it had been.

"Looks like it. Wonder what that idiot is doing with his life now… useless ferret… couldn't even win a war," Harry responded.

Hermione nodded, agreeing with Harry – Malfoy had really been insufferable all through Hogwarts, but the war was the final straw. She hadn't thought he was actually capable of the evil she had seen him witness. It was a miracle he hadn't been sent to Azkaban, but the courts had decided that since he was a minor and had been brainwashed by his family, he could live under house arrest for a short period of time. Hermione had always thought that there had been some bribery going on behind the scenes, but could never prove it.

She snuck a brief gaze over at the corner, and saw Malfoy reading a book called _Introductory Healing Potions. _

"Oh no" she groaned. "He can't be."

"What?" asked Harry.

"That book is a required text for the Potions Mastery program at the Healing Academy. I just had to buy it for one of my electives, I decided to minor in Potions."

"Why on earth would you do that? Potions was awful at Hogwarts!" Harry shuddered, recalling the pranks Malfoy would pull in that class, and how he got away with them because of Snape's Slytherin love-on.

"But useful… and I didn't think Malfoy would be there! Without the Slytherins and Snape it would have been fine."

"And now it's going to be just like when we were 13."

"It'll be a big class, hopefully he isn't in it, he's probably not. The deadline passed a while ago."

"Yeah he's too stupid for that. There's no way." Harry was convinced of Malfoy's inferiority, and Hermione wasn't going to argue. Malfoy in any of her classes wasn't something she could handle.

A movement in the corner he was sitting in caught her eye, and she turned slightly to see what it was. Sudden movements had scared her ever since the war. Hermione inadvertently made eye contact with Malfoy. His grey eyes spooked her, giving her gut a feeling of she-didn't-know-what. He smirked at her and she quickly dropped his gaze.

She jumped up and ran out of the bar, leaving a stunned Harry still mumbling something about how much deluded Malfoy had to have been to even think Voldemort could have won the war.

"Malfoy" she called after him. He didn't turn around.

"MALFOY!" She saw his back stiffen, and he stopped. She ran to catch up with him.

"What do you want, Granger?" he asked, not turning around.

"How did you know it was me?"

"I could smell the mud from a mile away."

"Lovely, just lovely. You're such a charmer. Are you going to the WHA?"

"What's it to you?"

"Nothing. I just noticed you had the book."

"Looking at me that closely, Granger?"

"Just answer the question!"

"Yes. Yes I am. Happy?"

The blood drained out of Hermione's face. There was no way she could handle seeing Malfoy three days a week. And there was that weird feeling she had had when she had accidentally made eye contact. She didn't know what it meant, but it was just below the surface of her consciousness.

"No, actually. I was hoping to never see your arrogant face again, but I guess we'll be in the same classes."

Malfoy just raised his eyebrows.

"Well that should be fun. Just like old times. Now if you'll excuse me, I have to go get my supplies." With a swirl of black robes, he stalked away, leaving Hermione angry, confused and more than a bit shaken up by the weird feeling she had whenever she had looked at him. She turned around to go back to the bar, not looking forward to the questions Harry was about to ask.

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I know, I know, a bit of a letdown after a year but I promise something that actually advances the story in the direction it's going in will happen next chapter!


	10. Disorientation

A/N: Yeah, it's been a while. Had a whim to write tonight - hope you like it! Please review :)

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Draco eased into the room full of other freshmen at the WHA. This, he was not looking forward to. Orientation was "mandatory" but against all that he knew of himself he was actually nervous. He hadn't ever associated with wizards who weren't on his side of the war since… ever, he guessed. Even when he was a kid, those were the only friends he was allowed to have, and he hadn't had to try to make them like him at all. He was a Malfoy. They had to like him. Now he actually had to try to make friends? Not that he needed friends.

Well, maybe he did. Ever since Draco had found out that Hermione was going to be the same class as him for the entire duration of his Potions Mastery degree, in the same building, with only 200 other students… the thought made his stomach turn. He needed other people to distract him from the fact that he actually had almost liked the girl.

He plastered his smirk on his face for self defense and went to sit at the back of the lecture hall for the boring presentation he had to sit through. He had been just on time, and saw Hermione sitting front row centre. Surprisingly, the seats beside her were empty. She didn't know anyone here either very well, he guessed. He probably should have figured that – she had told him that she didn't have any friends but Ron's and he stole those… he needed to stop thinking before he actually felt more sympathy for her. She was a muggle and ugly and bucktoothed and he needed to stop thinking now. She wasn't even on his radar for making friends. She didn't affect him at all. He was nervous for starting school, not for seeing her again. Actually he wasn't nervous at all. It was probably the sandwich he had for lunch that was making his stomach churn.

After the presentations, they were taken to the cafeteria for a dinner, then told to go home and change, as they were all to meet at the local bar for a disorientation party.

Fifteen firewhisky shots later, Draco was a bit unsteady on his feet, but feeling a lot more confident. A few people had approached him, ostensibly those not from England, and introduced themselves. He had been polite enough, he guessed, but the firewhisky wasn't helping keep his thoughts straight. The guy talking to him was Cory? Connor? Something with a C.

The crowd thinned out somewhat, and he caught a glimpse of Hermione across the bar, laughing in a red tank top and dark tight jeans. The image of her body as Harriet seared across his mind, and he perversely was drawn to her.

"Scuse me" he interrupted Cory mid-sentence, and lurched off the wall a bit unsteadily. "I have to go sthay hi to an acquaintance of mine"

"Man, are you ok? Maybe that's not a good idea," Cory said well-meaningly. "You're a bit sloshed."

"No no. Have to do this now," Draco slurred, fixating on the red tank top. Other things were moving a bit funny, but he felt compelled to go talk to Granger. "I'll be fine."

"If you say so. Early morning tomorrow, right?"

"Right." Draco had stopped listening, and stalked across the room, focusing on walking in a straight line and almost succeeding. He reached his target, who was talking to some sop of a redhead who looked way too much like Ron for his drunken liking.

"Hellllo Granger" he sneered, looking her up and down.

"Sorry Jeremy" she said to the redhead. "This should only take a second." She turned to face him and stumbled a bit, obviously having indulged in the open bar.

"How many of those have you had?" Draco asked, still with a sneer in his voice, indicating what he assumed was a gin and tonic in her hand.

"Enough. Not as many as you, obviously," she retorted. Jeremy sensed that he wasn't getting anywhere, and backed off. Draco noticed the ginger smudge leaving through the corner of his eye and smirked wider.

"How many is enough?"

"Seven."

"Nervous, Granger?"

"What's it to you?" She was getting defensive. He was proud that he could still make her spitting mad but at the moment all he could think about was trying to get her back into his bed. Firewhisky was totally clouding his judgment.

"You know, you'd be a lot sexier if you were a blonde,"

She looked confused for a second, then a second of that dumb Granger look she got when she was working on a hard problem, then her demeanor completely changed into a combination of shock and horror.

"You…" she trailed off.

Shit. He hadn't meant to make her realize. He hadn't wanted her to realize because he was clearly over the encounter and he just wanted to put it all behind him and he had told his mom he wanted to be closer to Pansy and hopefully marry her and he knew that was a lie but he could never actually get close to Granger of all people.

A sharp slap jolted him out of his jumbled thought process.

"I can't believe it. You of all people." She spun on her heel and stalked away, heading towards the exit.

He was frozen for a minute. No she couldn't leave now. He couldn't figure out why in his head but he half ran after her. She had left the bar as he reached the door, but he caught a glimpse of her red shirt disappearing around the corner. He ran after her.

"Granger!" he yelled when he rounded the corner. She glanced around and started running in those ridiculously sexy black heels.

What on earth was he doing chasing after a drunk mudblood girl? He must be totally foxed but he felt compelled to. She drew him after her like she had cast some sort of spell on him which of course she hadn't because he had armed himself against that but it sure felt like it.

"Granger!" he shouted again, and ran towards her. She didn't look back.

What was he going to do when he caught up with her? The thought crossed his mind as he finally came up beside her and caught her arm.

"Don't touch me!" Hermione burst out.

She was crying. Why on earth was she crying. She should be spitting mad.

"Why are you crying?"

"Because I have spent the last few months of my life mooning over some unknown wizard who I had spent a drunken night with and thought I really connected with and then found out that he was YOU." She spit the last word out like it was a snot flavoured Bertie Botts Bean. "You who I fought against and hated and all along you knew who I was because of the stupid charm wearing off and you left and I told you everything and you told me and you actually listened and…"

Draco was momentarily stunned by her tirade. His drunken brain couldn't process everything she was saying fast enough so he did the only thing he could think of to do.

He took a hold of her chin, turned her to face him and kissed her with all the firewhisky, lust and the somewhat unexpected sympathy he had running through his body.

* * *

Again, not sure when I'll get back to this but hopefully this actually moved the story for y'all! Love!


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